Scarlet
by Korvon
Summary: Dex reverts to having only childhood memories. Early on, in that room full of blood, he panics and falls to the ground. Hitting his head on the edge of an armoire, gets knocked unconscious and wakes up with amnesia, not remembering anything after his mom was killed. (Takes place in the episode Seeing Red. This could be considered a regression fic, but that was never the focus).
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: I may (probably not) end up continuing this story, but if I do it's not going to be anytime soon. However, if you're interested then by all means; run with it, just use you're own words. If you choose to, send me a link. I'd love to read it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Dexter.

* * *

 **Three Days Grace "I am machine"**

 _Here's to being human_

 _All the pain and suffering_

 _There's beauty in the bleeding_

 _At least you feel something_

 _I wish I knew what it was like_

 _To care enough to carry on_

 _I wish I knew what it was like_

 _To find a place where I belong, but_

 _I am machine_

 _I never sleep_

 _I keep my eyes wide open_

 _I am machine_

 _A part of me_

 _Wishes I could just feel something_

 _I am machine_

 _I never sleep_

 _Until I fix what's broken_

 _I am machine_

 _A part of me_

 _Wishes I could just feel something_

 _Here's to being human_

 _Taking it for granted_

 _The highs and lows of living_

 _To getting second chances_

 _I wish I knew what it was like_

 _To care about what's right or wrong_

 _I wish someone could help me find_

 _Find a place where I belong, but_

 _I am machine_

 _I never sleep_

 _I keep my eyes wide open_

 _I am machine_

 _A part of me_

 _Wishes I could just feel something_

 _I am machine_

 _I never sleep_

 _Until I fix what's broken_

 _I am machine_

 _A part of me_

 _Wishes I could just feel something_

 _It wasn't supposed to be this way_

 _We were meant to feel the pain_

 _I don't like what I am becoming_

 _Wish I could just feel something_

 _I am machine_

 _I never sleep_

 _I keep my eyes wide open_

 _I am machine_

 _A part of me_

 _Wishes I could just feel something_

 _I am machine_

 _I never sleep_

 _Until I fix what's broken_

 _I am machine_

 _A part of me_

 _Wishes I could just feel something_.

* * *

"Jesus fucking christ Dexter, wake up!" Debra shouted.

Hesitating in the doorway Doakes barked, "What the fuck happened in here?!"

They'd been called to come up to room 103 long before Dexter should have finished his assessment. The police sentrys hadn't explained in detail, too panicked, something had gone very wrong. Seeing the scarlet room again was no less disturbing as the first time. They didn't notice Dexter's still form lying on the floor at first, but judging from the disturbed blood on the floor, he'd had a severe panic attack. Falling on the ground and sliding more than once. The armoire off to the side had knocked over ever so slightly. You could only tell by the small rectangle of stainless carpet. He must have slammed his head on the corner. Deb hurried forward upon seeing the prone body beside it.

/\\\\\/\\\\\/

Dexter woke to hands snatching at his body; tugging and pulling his shoulder, touching his neck. Any moment now they would be ripping, tearing, screaming. And blood, so much blood. This room was different in some indescribable way. Lighter. But the blood, everywhere; on his clothes, in the air, he was drowning in it. Nothing else mattered enough for him to think any differently. Hands were still grabbing him; loud voices shouting. He was next, they where going to cut him into pieces.

"No! Stop! Please stop. Don't hurt me, please, please, please, please."

Doakes and Debra let him go immediately, as if they had been touching a live wire. Dexter half crawled, half ran across the blood soaked floor, slipping once before scrambling to his feet again. Hitting the wall, he veered alongside it till he reached a corner. Tucking in his knees to his chest and burying his face in his arms, breathing short ragged breaths. His goggles and cobalt mask had slipped off in the confusion, along with the white hood of the hasmat suit. Dexter's hair spiked up in places with blood. His continuous, desperate pleading chipped away what little was of their frayed nerves. Gods, what happened?

"Morgan" Doakes began, far more calmly and soothing than he could ever remember being before. "We're your…friends. We're not going to hurt you. Can you tell us what's wrong?"

"Leave me alone! I don't know you! That's not even my name! Where's Biney? I want my brother! Where is he?!"

Deb froze in stunned confusion at his words while Doakes exchanged baffled glances with the beat cops in the hallway. Brother? The looks asked, not sister?

Shaking it off Doakes hushed; flashing back to his time in service, when one of his men had been to shell-shocked to move, "Dexter, you need to calm down. Deep breaths. Come on, breath with me. In...out...in...out...there you go. Do you know where you are? What the hel- what happened in here?"

An, of course I do, look was directed at him over Dexter's crossed arms. Which would have been amusing if it hadn't been a fragile, cracking mask for the fear underlying it. Neither was prepared to see Dexter like this; panicked, scared. He so rarely showed emotions usually.

"The bad men came and they hurt mommy. They cut her up and left. We couldn't wake her up. I tried really hard! But, she wouldn't wake up."

They felt pinpricks of frigid claws slowly pawing up their spines, offset by a burning ball of anxiety in their chests. No wonder he was so fucked up.

"Dexter, listen to me. You're not there anymore-"

"Yes I am! This room is the same!" All the while trying to wipe some blood off his cheekbone, only making the smear bigger. "Where's Biney?"

"You work with the police, you had an accident at a crime scene."

Dexter's eyes didn't stop roaming the room, absolutely uncomprehending Doake's words. "I want my brother."

"We don't know where he is right now. But, we'll find him for you. Do you want to get out of here?"

Eyes shining with unshed tears, Dexter nodded frantically; reaching out a hand.

Hauling him up, Doakes guarded his left side after wrapping a coarse grey blanket, one of the paramedics had brought in, around his trembling shoulders.

As they passed, Deb flew into frenzied action, jumping to Dexter's right. He flinched away initially but soon relaxed at her (surprisingly profanity-free) whispered chatter.

"Don't worry. You're safe here, with us. We'll keep you safe."

For all that Doakes despised Dexter, freak was unnerving at the best of times, this person in front of him was lost and frightened; startling at the quietest noises. Traumatized. If Doakes was anyone, he was someone who protected people. Protected them from killers. Seeing someone, anyone in this state made every last one of his protective instincts rear up in defiance. He would kill whoever was responsible for this, very slowly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors Note** : Thank you for your reviews and favorites. They mean more than I can say. There were a few questions. Unlike one of my other stories, I'll be answering questions here, so as to avoid repeats. (One last thing: any medical knowledge in this chapter is total bullshit. I didn't even try researching this time. I suppose there's a chance it could be right, you never know.)

 **Q** : Is Dexter going to see Deb as a mother figure?

 **A** : Initially, I thought, "meh, probably not. He'd view her as an older sister at best." But, who knows. I suppose given enough time he might.

 **Q** : Will he ever regain his memory?

 **A** : Yes. I could never leave someone with the mind of a child in the body of an adult forever. It was never my intention to make him this way in the first place. I just wanted a more extreme reaction to Dex seeing that room. Or, I suppose more specifically, I wanted a more involved reaction from those around him at the time. Had it happened to him a year previous this would play out far differently.

 **Q** : What will "Binny" do once he finds out what happened to Dexter?

 **A** : My gods! I never considered his reaction. Not even slightly. This brings up so many possibilities.

* * *

Soundtrack: Unknown Soldier - Breaking Benjamin

* * *

 _If Doakes was anyone, he was someone who protected people. Protected them from killers. Seeing someone, anyone in this state made every last one of his protective instincts rear up in defiance. He would kill whoever was responsible for this, very slowly._

A soft whine drew his attention back downwards only to be met with blood-matted brown curls. Dexter kept his eyes firmly on the ground and appeared to be attempting to fade away into Doake's side. Sighing in slight exasperation Doakes motioned for the guards to back off.

"Out of the way, come on. Move it people!"

They moved. Inwardly, Doakes smirked at their quick response.

Debra hurried ahead, cell in hand while Doakes ever so carefully set Dexter's trembling form down on the edge on a nearby ambulance. Medics swarmed in like vultures, not unkindly shoving him aside.

"We'll take it from here sir."

Turning to usher off the growing crowd of spectators, he didn't make it a half step forward. Dexter's hand had snaked out, latching onto his sleeve.

"Please don't leave." Dexter's eyes flash around, looking anywhere else to avoid his piercing stare. "Everyone always leaves me."

Watching how Dexter's shoulders hunched protectively inward, with his legs swinging slightly, hovering an inch off the ground and face screaming a desperate hope Doakes caved. Folding as quickly as a card palace.

"Alright. Ok, I'll stay."

Flashing his badge in the face of the young medic who attempted to give some spiel about only family being allowed to ride with their patients.

The second medic, who had paid attention to his previous interaction with Dexter, waved him in the ambulance with an understanding smile that barely reached his weary eyes.

/*\\\\**/*\\\

Waiting in an uncomfortable hospital chair was not how Doakes had envisioned his evening ending. He strongly would have prefered a glass or two of single malt whisky. Alas, it was not meant to be. Still, he tried to keep track of all that was going on around him. For Dexter's sake, as he clearly didn't have the capability to do it himself. Debra would kick his ass into the next town if she thought he did a marginally shitty job of watching her brother. But, as the doctors carried on, and on, he found his eyes glazing over from their jargon.

"If I may speak to you in the hall for a second Mr. Doakes?"

"Hmm? Oh! Sure, sure."

.

.

.

"We found no abnormalities in his CAT scan; the head wound itself is minor. However, as best I can tell, and keep in mind I am no psychologist, Dexter is suffering from acute memory loss. He doesn't remember anything that's happened since sometime after he turned four. He does have…muscle memory shall we call it. Vestigial as it may be. Now, I haven't yet done any extensive testing but from the results that we do have, he knows things like arithmetic, and where places are; just not where he learned it, or with who. Some things are clearer than others. You'll have to be patient with him."

"Will they come back? His memories."

"There is no way to tell. It may take hours, days, weeks…or possibly at all. Head injuries are tricky things. Obviously, he'll be needing someone to look after him in the meantime. I can see he's quite attached to you-"

"No!" Doakes nearly shouted in panic, talking a second to collect himself before replying with a strained, "No, his sister will be by soon to pick him up."

"Mr. Doakes, I'm sure this has been a stressful time for all involved, but you must see how he's latched on to you. In cases with amnesia a trusted face is vitally important for recovery. Especially for someone in his state. I don't know what happened to him in the past but it was clearly traumatic. He would have needed to be sedated several times had you not intervened to calm him down. He'll need you."

"But I not-"

A loud (rude) cough interrupted his denile. Deb had walked up at some point during the doctors speech, leveling him with a vicious glare.

Shoving him back a step by the shoulder Deb bit out, "Now you listen here; the docs said he needs you, gods know why, but you better fucking be there for my brother!"

"Debra! You can take care of him. He's not my responsibility-"

"Save it! I can and will make your life a living hell if you scew this up."


End file.
